


Hold my hand, hold my heart

by Lollipop_Panda



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Getting Together, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25366291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lollipop_Panda/pseuds/Lollipop_Panda
Summary: It's easy for Itaru to hide his developing feelings for Misumi.Until Misumi gets hurt that is.or, the one where Itaru takes Misumi to get his wrist checked, and they hold hands a whole lot.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Ikaruga Misumi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72
Collections: A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020





	Hold my hand, hold my heart

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW. Can you believe this was supposed to be about 1k of FLUFF and ended up turning into... this? Because ha, me neither... 
> 
> Anyway, expect some ooc due to the whole getting hurt thing, sorry ;w; (and thank you to myself for my extensive knowledge on wrist sprains and braces.)
> 
> I HIGHLY RECOMMEND TURNING THE WORKSKIN ON FOR THIS !!! I fought the CSS for several hours for a single text message to look good (and semi-decent with the skin off) don't @ me.

Itaru is idly walking past the practice room, focusing on his phone where a game is open, gritting his teeth and praying to get a stupid finale for this event show instead of yet another matinee (he loves Arashi, but goddammit she needs to stop giving him matinees!!), when he hears it. 

A collective cry of panic, voices overlapping. 

“ _Misumi!_ — Misumi! — SUMI!” 

Next thing he knows, Itaru’s heart is screaming in his ears as he practically throws himself through the doorway of the practice room, catching sight of the Summer Troupe huddled around someone on the floor. 

Someone with light lavender hair. 

All the blood rushes from his face as his feet quickly carry him forward the few steps that separates them. 

“What happened!?” He asks, trying to get a gauge on the situation while adrenalin pushes itself through his veins and heightens every one of his senses, lungs expanding in preparation to run while his heart beats erratically to oxygenate his muscles. 

“I-He-!” Muku tries, shaking as he takes a step back for Itaru to move forward. 

“He was-! We were just practising and he tripped and-!” Yuki adds, visibly just as shaken. Kazunari is deathly silent, cradling Misumi carefully, and Tenma looks up from the two of them, face pale and eyes wide, and Itaru feels his own cheeks lose even more colour. 

“What happened?” he repeats as steadily as he can, keeping his eyes locked with Tenma who looks back to Misumi as the man groans and scrunches his nose, eyes closed, before answering. 

“He tripped, and-” the Summer leader gestures vaguely, struggling to find words, “And next thing we knew he was on the floor holding his arm,” he finishes. 

A small part of Itaru’s mind whispers that it’s not quite uncommon for someone normal, but Misumi is anything but normal and Itaru didn’t even know it was possible for him to trip. 

“Let me see,” he requests, moving closer, glad when Yuki and Tenma step back to join Muku, the three of them pale and concerned. What gets to him though is Kazunari, who is still as a statue and pale as a ghost, eyes wide and almost unseeing. 

Shaken, Itaru steps next to Misumi and kneels down, giving him a once over and catching the way the man is cradling his wrist tightly. That must be the problem then, not that Itaru can actually see, between Kazunari’s protective hold and Misumi’s own hand covering it. 

“Kazunari,” Itaru whispers, glad when green eyes rise to look at him. He could do without the glittering of unshed tears though, “Let me see,” he repeats his earlier request, a lot quieter now, as if speaking to a spooked animal. 

Kazunari, all his usual sunny disposition snuffed out in the face of his concern, takes a shaky breath and uncurls enough for Itaru to lean in, though he doesn’t relinquish his hold on his friend. 

A small part of Itaru envies that kind of closeness, but he has much bigger matters to attend to right now, gently resting his hand against Misumi’s uninjured (he hopes) hand and coaxing him to move it so he can assess the damage. 

Praying it’s not broken, Itaru watches as orange eyes open, those too, glittering with unshed tears, and the noise of his heart increases at the pain he sees in them.

“It’s okay, Misumi,” Itaru whispers, “I just want to look, I won’t touch, I promise,” he reassures, relieved when Misumi slowly nods and lets him pull his hand away. 

It’s all Itaru can do to hold in a hiss at the sight of the already swollen wrist. There’s no stopping the grimace that makes it’s way onto his face though. 

“I think we should take you to the hospital, just to be safe,” he decides, wincing when he sees Kazunari’s knuckles turn white and Misumi’s eyes go wide in fear. 

Behind him, he can hear several intakes of breath, and Itaru feels awful, but knows it’s necessary if they don’t want to make anything worse. He remembers his own injury, what feels like forever ago, and knows that they can’t afford to let Misumi of all people go with an untreated injury. 

Thankfully, no one disagrees with him, and after only a short moment of searching Itaru’s face, Misumi relaxes and nods, slowly sitting up from where he lays in Kazunari’s arms, helped by said friend while Itaru hovers awkwardly, arm outstretched just in case. 

Misumi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and somehow Itaru knows what’s coming. Thinks the others likely do too. 

“Okay!” the quirky man chirps as he opens his eyes with a smile, “Let’s go then Itaru~!” 

“Don’t-” Itaru starts, tiny and breathless and hopeless, but it’s drowned out by Kazunari’s loudness. Itaru isn’t sure if he’s thankful for it or not. 

“I’ll come with you!” Kazunari states, standing up and looking down at Misumi. Itaru opens his mouth again to answer, but this time it’s Misumi who beats him to it, all cheer and sunshine and Itaru wants to scream at him to _stop doing that_.

“It’s okay Kazu! You stay here and make sure everyone is okay!” Misumi tells his friend (best friend? Itaru doesn’t know, tries not to care too much). 

Something strange happens then. 

Kazunari opens his mouth to answer, looking down at where Misumi is still settled on the floor next to Itaru. He stops, looks at Itaru, then finally looks back at Misumi, the two having a silent conversation that no one else is privy to. Itaru watches as Kazunari’s face goes from full out concern and rebuttal to concerned but resigned and … hopeful? and he smiles shakily, offering a nod. 

“Okay…” Kazunari breathes, and it almost sounds like he’s convincing himself, “Okay!” he repeats with more bolster now, back straightening, “We’ll go and tell Izumi what happened and leave Itaru to take Sumi to the hospital,” the lack of a nickname for him is jarring, but Itaru can’t blame Kazunari for being shaken, even when he pretends not to be, “Make sure and keep us updated, okay!?” he demands then, and Itaru nods. 

“I’ll make sure you know everything that’s going on,” Itaru reassures, starting to stand slowly with Misumi, arms hovering either side of him in case he slips or needs help. It’s Misumi though, so he stands up fine, even with an injured wrist that could be anything from lightly sprained to broken. Though he’s gone back to cradling the injured limb now that Itaru has seen what he needs to. 

Once the two of them are standing, they look to Kazunari who has his hands on his hips and is giving Misumi a searching look, the concern still clear as day. 

“Okay,” he says again, nodding decisively to himself before looking to Itaru, “Take care of him.” 

The firm way it’s said is uncharacteristic of Kazunari, and Itaru feels like it holds a deeper meaning. There’s no time to dwell on it though because the faster they get Misumi to a professional the better, so Itaru nods, matching Kazunari’s firm demand with a determination he doesn’t often show. 

“Of course.” 

Because this is Misumi they’re talking about, and as much as Itaru has been trying to hide it, he wants to do the best he can for him. 

Conversation seemingly over, Kazunari nods again before smiling stiffly and ushering the three remaining members out of the door with a request to help him find their director and Omi - the former to explain the situation, and the latter so they can help him make a dinner for tonight, when Itaru and Misumi return. 

With that, Itaru turns his back to Misumi, suddenly a lot more unsure, and slowly starts shuffling towards the exit, only glancing over to make sure the injured man is following him. 

The silence on the way to Itaru’s car is stifling, but the blond doesn’t know how to break it. He could put on his work persona and smile, but considering he wants nothing more than to yell at Misumi to drop his own cheerful smile right now, he thinks that’d be too hypocritical even for him. 

So he says nothing, unlocks his car, opens the passenger door and watches Misumi sit down, smile still in place even though his eyes have dimmed. 

“Do you want help putting your seatbelt on?” Itaru asks him, pausing before he shuts the door. He watches as Misumi twists a little and awkwardly takes the seatbelt with his uninjured hand and tries pulling it across himself, wincing in pain as he jars his hurt wrist. 

Without a word, Itaru leans into the car and gently takes the seatbelt from Misumi, leaning over him completely, careful not to touch his hurt wrist, and buckles him in before pulling out again, clearing his throat and forcing down the heat from his cheeks. 

Now is _not_ the time. 

Closing the car door, Itaru walks round and opens the door to the driver’s side, falling into the seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, turning them in the same motion it takes to put his seatbelt on. And with a quick look at Misumi who is still smiling, Itaru checks his mirrors and pulls out. 

The hospital isn’t far: a ten minute drive. Fifteen at most. The quiet is stifling and Itaru can’t bring himself to turn the radio on. Misumi is still smiling and Itaru wants to scream. 

“Stop it,” he whispers at last, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as he breathes the words, distressed and wishing Misumi would understand that all Itaru wants is to see _him_ , without the forced smile or pleasantries. He catches the way Misumi jerks in surprise from the corner of his eye and silence resumes for a beat, two, three. 

“Thank you,” come the quiet words, and Itaru glances over to see Misumi curled forwards, smile gone but eyes a lot more expressive, and Itaru feels his shoulders relax. 

“No need to thank me, silly,” he answers just as quietly. 

They exchange no more words until they reach their destination. 

Silence keeps them company, this time comfortable and welcome. 

-

The second they walk through the door to the emergencies, Itaru’s face morphs into a pleasant smile as he greets the staff and explains the situation, the perfect gentleman, full of poise and control. 

Never mind that his mind is spinning and he wants to yell for someone to come _help_ already, because Misumi is a lot paler than he was when they left and Itaru had caught the way he’d stumbled when he’d stepped out of the car. 

Thankfully, miraculously, the place isn’t crowded and they don’t have to wait for more than a couple of minutes - just enough time for Itaru to message Kazunari with their current situation - for the doors to open and someone to step out, clipboard in hand. 

“Ikaruga Misumi?” they call, looking up and towards the two of them sat on the uncomfortable plastic chairs of the waiting room. 

Itaru stands when Misumi does, hand hovering at his lower back without actually touching. 

“That’s him,” he answers for him, casting Misumi an openly concerned look. The nurse gives Itaru a once over before focusing on Misumi and nodding. 

“If you’ll follow me then,” he says.

Misumi doesn’t move. 

“Can Itaru come?” he asks instead, and Itaru looks at him in barely concealed surprise. 

With a frown, the nurse turns around and gives Itaru another once-over. 

“What’s his relation to you? We can only allow family or partners.” 

Itaru doesn’t even get a second to prepare himself for what he suddenly knows is coming. 

“He’s my boyfriend! That counts as partners right~?” Misumi chirps, the cheer back with a vengeance and looking out of place on his pale face. 

The nurse looks to Itaru again, visibly gauging his reaction to the statement, and only months upon months of acting and improvisation and street acts make Itaru keep his composure as he smiles, allowing his concern to bleed through to justify the shakiness of it - not at all because Misumi just called him his boyfriend and it almost gave him a heart attack - and nods, playing into the act by allowing his hand to make contact with Misumi’s back at last, taking a tiny step closer to him. 

“Two years in August,” he provides easily, watching as the nurse looks between them before visibly giving up and nodding. 

“It’s only supposed to be spouses, but I guess with your situation…” the nurse gives them an awkward but apologetic look and Itaru’s smile tightens around the edges, “I’ll allow it, just follow me.” 

And follow they do. 

Itaru is almost thankful for the concern he feels over Misumi’s well-being, as it drowns out the way his heart stutters and flutters from the mere contact against Misumi’s lower back as he guides him forwards behind the nurse. 

Though, if it weren’t for Misumi’s injury, they wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place. 

The nurse leaves them once they’ve reached an empty room and instructs Misumi to sit on the bed there, the man doing so as Itaru tucks himself away in a corner of the room, tensing when the doctor steps in only seconds later and asks Misumi to show him what’s wrong.

Any and all thoughts about his feelings and jittery heart leave him the second Misumi does as requested. 

It’s not the injury itself that makes Itaru’s heart shatter and his breath hitch painfully. No, after all, he can’t really see it from this angle. What he can see however, is the look on Misumi’s face. 

The fear and pain is clear as day now, because Misumi isn’t looking at the doctor, but at Itaru instead, those intense orange eyes boring into him in a show of utter trust as he lets the walls fall, the same walls that Itaru had wanted to scream at in the car.

Itaru may be a little detached and a lot socially awkward but there’s no way he can turn a blind eye to the sight in front of him. 

Before he has time to over-think, Itaru steps closer, right next to Misumi, mindful to stay out of the doctor’s way, and offers his hand which is immediately taken and squeezed. 

Itaru squeezes back and relaxes just as Misumi does.

He’s not sure who had needed the touch more. 

-

Several hours and lots of one-handed texting to an almost impossible to reassure Kazunari later, Misumi is allowed out, Itaru’s hand held firmly in a gentle grip all the while. They’d only separated when Misumi had been taken in for a scan, quickly linking again the second they’d been reunited, neither of them mentioning it, basking in the quiet reassurance from the touch in a foreign and intimidating environment. 

Misumi’s wrist has been temporarily wrapped until they get him a brace, and he’s been given a firm warning to keep said brace on for at least three weeks, only allowed to take it off to bathe and put the prescribed cream on. Even after that, he’s been instructed to give his wrist only the lightest of exercise until he’s had another check-up.

It could have been worse, Itaru muses quietly as he opens the passenger door for Misumi, getting a shaky smile that Itaru only just manages to return. 

Their linked hands part as Misumi slips into the seat, Itaru leaning in behind him and buckling his seatbelt without prompting. 

At least it’s ‘only’ a nasty sprain and not a full-on fracture. 

Closing the door, Itaru rounds the car to get into the driver’s side, falling into the seat, jamming the key into the ignition and twisting in the same movement it takes to put his own seatbelt on. 

Itaru grips the steering wheel in both hands, knuckles turning white as he stares unseeingly ahead, not yet moving the car forward. 

There’s something about _Misumi_ of all people getting hurt that gets to Itaru, twists his stomach and squeezes his heart. 

“Itaru…?” Misumi breaks his musings, voice quiet and tentative, and Itaru starts, eyes going wide as he looks over to the man in surprise, remembering where he is all of the sudden. 

“Sorry,” Itaru shakes himself out of it, taking in his surroundings before releasing the handbrake, “We should stop at the pharmacy and pick everything up for you before going home,” a quick check of the time on his dashboard confirms that they have another hour before the closest pharmacy closes. That should be plenty of time. 

Hopefully they’ll even be back in time for dinner with everyone else.

Misumi hums a quiet agreement, and that’s that as Itaru pulls out of the parking space. 

Itaru expects silence to settle once more, but Misumi is almost the definition of the words ‘expect the unexpected’ so really, he should have known. 

“Itaru, thank you,” Misumi’s voice is quiet but light, and Itaru wishes he didn’t need to focus on the road so he can look over at him, take him all in. 

“For what? I didn’t do anything,” Itaru rebukes just as quietly before correcting himself, “I just brought you here.”

Another hum leaves Misumi, and Itaru can’t help but imagine there’s a tiny smile on those pretty lips. 

“You stayed,” Misumi whispers, “You didn’t have to.” 

Itaru’s heart feels like it’s screaming as it rushes adrenaline through him and he really really wishes he wasn’t driving right now. 

All he has to do is say ‘sure’ or ‘of course I did’ and smile. That’s it. 

But Itaru had wanted to scream at Misumi to drop the forced smile all those hours ago. 

“I wanted to,” the words are out before he has time to think about them, leaving him in a breathless whisper as if they’d been physically punched out of him. 

This time, silence does envelop them, and Itaru doesn’t know what to do, afraid he’s said too much, or maybe not enough, he’s not quite sure, all out of sorts. All this is very new; from Misumi’s uncharacteristically reserved but oh so raw demeanour, to the hours of hand holding, all the way to the hums and quiet way he spoke his thanks. 

Somehow though, none of it is awkward, and they make it to the pharmacy with no more words exchanged. Worries about the upcoming play put on the back burner for now, held in limbo until they get back home.

“Do you want to stay in the car while I get everything?” his question breaks the silence in the same beat that Itaru kills the engine, looking to Misumi inquisitively, watching as he looks away from the outside world and turns to lock eyes with Itaru. 

Heart stopping and stuttering back to an erratic beat at the gentle appreciation he sees in them, Itaru barely catches the way Misumi shakes his head, small smile upon his lips as he holds his sprained wrist close to his heart. 

“I need to try on the brace for size, remember?” 

Itaru does not, in fact, remember. 

“Right,” he answers instead, and offers a shaky but genuine smile, and gets out of the car, quickly rounding to Misumi’s side to open the door and offer him his hand to help him out. 

Not that Misumi really needs the help -it’s his wrist that’s injured after all, not his legs- and not that Itaru could probably haul him out of the car even if he wanted to, but he still feels warm when Misumi smiles at him, wider now, happier, and takes his hand. 

-

They do end up making it back to the dorms in time for dinner, but only barely. The whole wrist-brace ordeal had taken longer than Itaru had ever expected, what with the several different models available and the time needed to unwrap Misumi’s wrist for them to take his measurements. 

And then had come the actual trying on. If Itaru had found it painful to watch the doctor move Misumi’s wrist, having to be witness to him trying on different braces had been torture, and within only the second brace, Itaru had carefully but decisively told the brutish pharmacist handling Misumi that he would take over helping Misumi put it on while they got the other options. 

Trying not to think of the grateful look Misumi had given him, Itaru pulls himself back into the present as the two of them step through the front door and slip their shoes off, Itaru turning around and hovering, watching Misumi remove his shoes, just in case he needs help. 

He doesn’t, slipping out of his shoes easily, and he and Itaru exchange quiet smiles, almost secretive in nature. 

The moment is short lived however, because the second they start towards the main living area, several pairs of footsteps come thundering towards them, and most of the company turns the corner as one, Kazunari in the lead, all of them pausing at the sight of Itaru and Misumi, as if suspended in time and waiting for them to say something.

“Kazu~!” 

“Sumi!”

Time resumes as Kazunari’s eyes fill with tears and he almost trips over himself in his hurry to reach them. Itaru takes a respectful step back to allow the two friends privacy, even though the rest of the company is hot on Kazunari’s heels. 

Everyone looks to Itaru while the Summer members fuss over their triangular ball of energy who is now all smiles and cheer, and the Spring member shifts under the scrutiny, opening his mouth to start talking when Azuma beats him to it. 

“How about we all go sit down for dinner, and Itaru and Misumi can tell us everything while we eat,” he offers, voice calm and steady, that gentle smile of his helping everyone settle even if just a little. 

Agreements are shared all around, and a few seconds later, only Itaru, Misumi and Kazunari remain in the entrance. 

Not knowing what to do with himself, but almost reluctant to leave Misumi’s side, Itaru shifts on his feet and finally starts slowly following the others when Kazunari’s whisper cuts through his still jumbled thoughts. 

“Thank you for taking care of him, Itaru.” 

The seriousness in Kazunari’s usually cheery voice, as well as the complete lack of a nickname again, throws Itaru for a loop and only serves to add confusion to the chaos of his mind. 

Turning, Itaru catches Misumi’s smile, bright and cheerful and just this side of wrong as he cradles his now braced wrist, and yet again Itaru wants to scream for him to _stop doing that._

Instead, he smiles, the picture perfect gentleman, calm and collected, and nods. 

“Of course.” 

-

With a heavy sigh, Itaru slumps against his bedroom door as he closes it behind him, resisting the urge to slide all the way down and sit on the floor. Instead he hauls himself upright and starts getting ready for bed, in no mood to turn his computer on for a session of gaming tonight. 

As he allows his shirt to fall messily to the floor, not caring where it lands, Itaru lets his body take over the mindless motions of changing into sleepwear while his thoughts wander, going over the day’s events. 

Knowing what had happened and actually processing it are two entirely different things, Itaru realizes. 

Sure, maybe it’s a little late to acknowledge the fact that he had basically held Misumi’s hand all afternoon, but at least he’s acknowledging it _now_. That counts for something, right? 

Then there’s the way Misumi had acted. _Actually_ acted when they’d gotten home, putting that forced smile on his face as he nursed his injured wrist to his heart protectively. 

Itaru had genuinely thought that Misumi wouldn’t feel the need to do that any more; to hide his pain and insecurities, not from his troupe mates, and especially not from Kazunari. 

Although, Itaru doesn’t know if that’s true. Who knows, maybe Misumi really does drop all his walls around Kazunari, but only when no one is looking. 

But, Itaru thinks, Misumi had dropped the cheerful act when he’d asked. When Itaru had begged for him to stop in a quiet whisper that he hadn’t been able to contain, Misumi had let his smile fall and allow his eyes to flood with emotion. 

He hadn’t known what to do with that at the time, and still doesn’t, even hours later. 

Had Misumi, who thinks of others more than he’ll ever think of himself, simply indulged Itaru? Or had he actually willingly dropped the act because he’d wanted to? 

The idea that Misumi is willing to show Itaru his vulnerable side makes his heart stutter and scream as whispers make their way through his bloodstream, hope sighs it’s way into his lungs as all the breath in his body leaves him at the thought of Misumi feeling even half of what Itaru feels for the lavender haired mystery. 

The buzzing of his phone interrupts his thoughts and pulls him back to reality, and a mirthless chuckle falls from Itaru’s lips. 

Of course, that’s all just wishful thinking. Why would Misumi be even remotely interested in Itaru when he already has Kazunari? 

Kazunari, who had cried when they’d returned. 

Kazunari, who had held Misumi against him after his fall. 

Kazunari, who had let Itaru take Misumi to the hospital without him. 

Ah, and there it is again, the confusion wracks through him as he remembers the way Kazunari had looked at him today. 

Something isn’t adding up, and for the life of him, Itaru can’t figure out what. 

So he does what he does best, and pushes the thought out of his mind as he unlocks his phone, expecting a notification from one of his games to remind him his LP is full. 

Adrenalin bursts from him, pushed into every muscle by his palpitating heart as he stares at the three triangles staring back at him. With a shaky hand, Itaru opens the conversation.

△△△  
  
**sat, 20 June**  
**Itaru Chigasaki:** Do you have my PS4 controller again?  
**Read** 20:35  
**△△△:** Ehehe~ it has a △!  
**> △△△: **I'll bring it over~!  
20:57  
**thurs, 25 June**  
**Itaru Chigasaki:** I found a triangle today, thought you might want it.  
**Read** 14:47  
**△△△:**!!!!!!!!!! YES! △△△  
**> △△△: **△△△△△△~  
**> △△△: **Itaru is the best~ △△❤️  
14:47  
**Today**  
**△△△:** Itaru! Can I come over  
21:59  


What? The only reason Itaru knows Misumi hasn’t gotten the wrong contact is the sight of his own name staring back at him. But that makes no sense, wouldn’t Misumi prefer to go to Kazunari instead? Or is it because Itaru has a dorm to himself? 

So does Misumi though; he could easily ask Kazunari to come over if he wanted to spend time with him. 

Mind reeling, Itaru is only broken from staring at his screen when there’s a knock at his door. 

Jumping out of his skin and taking another look at the conversation, he vaguely wonders when he’d sent back a ‘sure’ but doesn’t have time to dwell on it as he pockets his phone and turns to open the door. 

He’s greeted by the sight of Misumi, smiling brightly, cheeks flushed and holding a bag in his uninjured hand. A bag that Itaru recognizes. One that they’d acquired just a few hours ago from the very same place that the brace around Misumi’s wrist had come from.

It’s a lot fuller than he remembers it being. It almost looks like a pillow with how stuffed it is. 

“Itaru~” Misumi interrupts his thoughts and Itaru finally takes a step back to allow Misumi in, “I need help…hehe…” he trails off sheepishly, and Itaru’s heart flutters for the umpteenth time today. 

“Yeah…?” he whispers back, closing the door once Misumi has entered. 

Misumi hums in confirmation, and suddenly Itaru is all too aware of the space the two of them now occupy, unable to turn around from where he’s still facing the door. 

Silence. 

It settles around them like a blanket, not quite awkward but not quite comfortable either, as Itaru comes to terms with the fact that Misumi is in _his_ room, asking for _his_ help. 

Not Kazunari. 

Itaru. 

Finally allowing the information to sink in, even if he can’t quite make sense of it, Itaru turns around to face Misumi, expecting to be greeted with that cheery disposition again. 

Instead Misumi isn’t looking at him. Those pretty orange eyes of his are directed somewhere off to the right as the man stands in the middle of the room. Itaru would wonder if this was still the Misumi who had just walked through his door if not for the fidgeting -feet shifting, uninjured hand clenching and relaxing around the handles of the small plastic bag. 

It hits him then. 

This too, is Misumi. Raw and vulnerable, honest and open, cheery smile temporarily put aside for something small and timid, glancing only briefly at Itaru before looking away once more. 

Misumi’s walls are down, laying him bare for Itaru’s eyes to see. 

The thought catches on his mind and leaves him breathless. 

A moment passes and Itaru relaxes, taking in all of Misumi and what he’s giving him, and he moves towards him at last, feeling like he’s doing more than just closing the physical distance between them. 

“You needed help?” Itaru asks quietly, tilting himself downward to try and catch Misumi’s gaze. 

That’s all that’s needed it seems, as Misumi looks at him finally, staring into his eyes where they stay for the briefest of moments before closing in a happy smile. 

Somehow, this one is different. It’s not an act, because the vulnerability is still there, the honesty breathed into him, smile pleased, open and genuine in a way all the others today hadn’t been. 

Itaru remembers wanting to scream, now he wants nothing more than to lean in and whisper. 

With a nod, Misumi answers his question. 

“I didn’t see how to take the brace off… And Kazu offered but…” 

Itaru waits, Misumi doesn’t continue. 

The words hang between them anyway, unsaid but not unheard. 

_‘But it’s your help I want.’_

With a small smile and a nod, Itaru moves to roll his chair away from his desk and turns it so it’s facing Misumi, a quiet request to sit. 

“Does it still hurt a lot?” Itaru asks as Misumi sits down, holding out his injured wrist more readily than he had to anyone else today, and the blond sits on the floor in front of him and takes it gingerly, slowly starting to unclasp the brace once he’s made sure Misumi is watching what he’s doing. 

“Mm, not as bad as at the hospital though,” Misumi says, tilting his head as he focuses on Itaru’s movements, then, “Itaru has gentle hands.” 

Biting his lip, Itaru smiles at the words and looks up to lock with orange for a second before he carefully takes the brace off from around Misumi’s wrist. 

“Only because I have no muscle, so I can’t be a brute even if I tried,” he jokes, putting the brace on his desk next to them and looking to the bag that looks like it might burst any second, “You have cream to put on too, right?” he remembers. 

Misumi nods and smiles again, looking happier and more like himself than he has all day. 

“Mhm! I brought it with me,” he agrees, reaching out with his free hand to take the bag and pull it closer. Itaru glimpses clothes, but doesn’t have time to dwell on the fact before a small rectangular box is taking up his vision, “Do you mind putting it on for me?” 

No. No Itaru doesn’t mind because Misumi is trusting him with this. Has spent most of his day trusting him with himself and Itaru just doesn’t know what to do with it other than treasure these moments and care for Misumi as best as he possibly can. 

“Sure,” he answers, taking the box and opening it to pull the tube of cream out, “Tell me if it hurts though, okay?” 

Misumi nods, Itaru can’t help but smile up at him from his position on the floor, and he gets to work, cautiously rubbing the cream into Misumi’s wrist. 

Silence comes back to greet them, warm and comfortable, settling like a blanket while Itaru’s heart whispers hope and sighs in longing. 

“Did you need anything else?” Itaru asks quietly, long finished with rubbing the cream in, now idly brushing his fingers carefully against smooth skin, unable to look away. 

“Mm!” comes the chirp of confirmation, and Itaru forces himself to look up into his eyes, “I need help changing!” 

Everything stutters to a halt before starting up again faster than an SSD and Itaru blinks several times to process the words. Misumi watches him, smile soft and content. 

It turns out being a less awkward ordeal than it could have been. After all, Itaru is much more focused on making sure he doesn’t hurt Misumi while he helps feed his arm through the hole of his shirt to even give a thought to stare at his exposed skin. 

Shirt now removed and replaced with one he intends to sleep in, Misumi offers another smile that Itaru returns, resisting the urge to lean in and close the distance.

“Thank you Itaru~” he chirps quietly, almost as if he’s sharing a secret, and Itaru will cherish this. This moment of companionship. 

A thought still plagues him however, refuses to leave him, scratching at the back of his mind and screaming it’s demands to be heard. 

“Why me?” he blurts into the sparse space between them, elaborating when Misumi tilts his head in question, “Why not Kazunari?” 

There’s so much in that question. Why had Misumi told Kazunari to stay behind when he’d clearly wanted to come? Why had he readily accepted Itaru drive him? Why had he held his hand? Why why why. 

Itaru so desperately wants to hope, but fear holds him firmly in place as he refuses to look back up at Misumi. 

“Because Kazu is my best friend,” the words are light, spoken in the purest of truths, affection clear in the words, “But,” and here Misumi slides off of the chair to join Itaru on the floor, tilting his head forward to try and meet his gaze in an imitation of Itaru’s own movements minutes prior, “I want to be close with Itaru, too.” 

Hope slams against his chest in the form of an erratic heartbeat, and Itaru looks up in bewilderment, which makes Misumi giggle, grinning at Itaru and moving impossibly closer. 

The thought barely even forms in his mind before Itaru is reaching up to gently grip at Misumi’s shirt, just above his heart. 

“Sleep here tonight?” he asks on a breath, barely more than a whisper, but Misumi, perceptive, beautiful, vulnerable Misumi, smiles at him and rubs their noses together slowly in a show of tenderness, bringing his uninjured hand to carefully link with Itaru’s. 

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear from you over on [twitter](https://twitter.com/PocketoPanda)!


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